MOBILE DIGITAL LIBRARY - SOCIETY OF YOUNG NIGERIAN ...

"'That sounds nice,' he said. Suddenly he looked amused. His nerve all through was thebulliest thing you ever saw, Uncle Bill. Not a whimper. 'You thought I was Italian,' hebrought out. 'Years ago, this morning. But—I'm not. American, sir—I heard the call—theone clear call. American.'"Then he closed his eyes and his breathing was so easy that I thought he might sleep, andlive hours, maybe. I loosened his fingers and lifted his head on my coat that I'd folded fora pillow, for I thought I'd go outside and find Joe Barron and get him to take the busdown when the jam held up so I could start. Before I started, I bent over again and heopened his eyes, and I said very distinctly: 'I want you to know that I'll be prouder all mylife than words can say that I've had you for a father,' and he brought out a long, perfectlycontented sigh, and seemed to drop off."I began to pick my way through the clutter of men lying, some still as death, somewrithing and gurgling horrid sounds. I had got about eight feet when across the hideousnoises broke a laugh like a pleased kid. I whirled. He'd lifted his big shoulders up fromthe straw and was laughing after me from under those thick black lashes; his eyes werebrilliant. He stretched out his arms to me."'American, sir,' he said in a strong voice. And fell back dead."I heard the clock tick and tick. And tick. Minutes went by. Then the boy got up in the